It was one of those days in Ty Mcduff's house. The days he hates, fears, dreads. Whenever it got bad in his house, Ty would just leave, to no place specific, really. Anywhere but there, in his house, was perfect.

Today, he went for a walk down his street. It was empty, as usual. He turns down the sidewalk, into the large park that him and his father used to visit when he was younger. They'd play catch, or race around the grass field. Ty's father would always let him win, faking a twisted ankle, or claim he was getting a cold. Ty smiled at the memory. If Ty raced his father today, he wouldn't need his father to fake anything; he would be able to beat him, fair and square. Maybe Ty should get his father back to this park, they could race again. Ty could show his father how good he is now. Ty was on all the sports teams, titled M.V.P on each of them. His father wouldn't know this, though, he was always away on business, and when he wasn't…

Ty doesn't like to think about that. That's why he goes on these walks, to get away from it all. He is brought back to present time as he hears a slim brunette, about his age, calling her golden retriever's name. "Bently! Bently!" she yells, as the dog chases a crow without luck. Ty, being the admired runner he is, helps the girl chase after Bently.

"He won't hurt the bird, he's just curious." The girl assures Ty, slightly out of breath. Just now, Ty notices what the girl is wearing; a pink baggy t-shirt, tight black short shorts, and Addidas runners. So she's an athlete, too, Ty thinks. "There's to many crows in this world, anyways." he replies, with a wink, sarcastic. The girl smirks, "You're not kidding."

***

He has a nice smile, Nora Valentine notes. She was just on her daily run, trying to burn off the slice of cake she ate last night for her aunts birthday. She knew she shouldn't have eaten it, especially with soccer season ending, but how could she refuse chocolate mousse cake? Chocolate was her weakness, and unfortunately, there was no shortage of it. Nora's grandmother always told her that back in her day, chocolate was a treat, only given once or twice a year, if her parents could afford it. Sometimes Nora wished she lived back in 1938 like her grandma had, that way she wouldn't have to go on these damn runs everyday.

Nora and the boy stop running after Bently, as the dog finally gives up his chase. Bently is now rolling around in the grass, the sun shining down on him beautifully. Nora liked Bently from the very start; when they bought him from a local dog breeder four years ago, when Nora was in grade six. Nora had always wanted a dog, and under any other circumstances, she would've been ecstatic to get him. The fact that he was meant to be some consolation prize for her parent's unexpected divorce, though, made the whole event slightly less exciting. Although, that didn't mean Nora loved him any less. Sure, he was a constant reminder that her parents hate each other, but that wasn't his fault. And he makes a great running partner, Nora thought to herself.

"Common, Bently," she sighs with slight annoyance, "You're getting yourself all dirty, and we both know how mom gets when there's dirt in the house..." Bently looks Nora's way for a second, and then continues rolling.

"Ugh," she grumbles, "why did I ever want a dog, again?" The helpful boy laughs, and Nora is suddenly self-conscious. This is a boy in front of her. A cute boy, at that. Dark hair, bright eyes. He has a mysterious quality about him, which could be because of his black leather jacket, or the way the light falls on his face, highlighting his high cheekbones. I'd like to get to know him, Nora concludes. She just hopes he isn't disgusted from all her fat.

***

Spring is Abigail Smith's favourite time of the year. The flowers are blooming, the sun just coming out. Everyone puts away their snow pants, and start taking out their flip-flops. She likes going to the park in the spring, getting to see the new leaves on the trees and the blossoming flowers at their best.

She sees a patch of daisies, with one lone dandelion; the weed. An older lady and her granddaughter walk by the patch, the grandmother picks the dandelion and throws it to the side, "There, now it's perfect." The old lady says, her granddaughter smiling happily, holding her hand.

Abigail automatically goes to pick up the dandelion, after they leave. Just because it was different doesn't make it unworthy of growing in the garden, does it?

Still holding the dandelion in her hand, Abigail walks over to the set of swings, which is her favourite spot in the whole park. There are two willow trees on either side of the two swings, swaying in the breeze. But, before Abigail reaches the swing, she is tackled by a golden retriever. Abigail has never really liked dogs, especially when they smell and slobber all over her. Thankfully, this dog wasn't slobbering, but it did have a slight dirt smell coming off it. Abigail laughs nervously, petting the top of the retriever's head, trying not to fall down from its weight.

"Bently!" A small girl yells at Abigail, from down the field. Abigail assumes Bently is the dog, or the girl is mistaking her for someone else. The girl runs over to her dog, a boy trailing after her. She tugs on the dogs collar, pulling it off her. "I'm so sorry!" the girl exclaims.

This girl, in front of Abigail, is exactly what Abigail wishes she looked like. Green eyes, long brown hair--no frizz or kinks, like Abigail's--tan skin, and long legs. Most of all, this girl was skinny. No rolls, only one chin, and a flat stomach. Abigail has been fat for as long as she can remember. All she's ever wanted was to be pretty.

"Oh, don't worry about it." Abigail mumbles.

***

Vivienne Iseman is sitting in the same park, on the same bench, that she shared her first kiss with the love of her life on. He was the only boy she had ever loved; the only boy she will ever love. It's supposed to be their second year anniversary today. Vivienne absent-mindedly traces the heart that was carved into the bench. They had carved it together. VI+CB=forever, it said in the centre. Oh, how she wished it were true.

Vivienne looks around the park, two kids are playing frisbee together, a father and his two daughters slide down the slide, three kids having an awkward exchange in front of the swings, a boy smoking under a cherry tree. It's just another Sunday afternoon; a normal day for everyone else in this world. To Vivienne, this was the worst best day of her life. This day, the anniversary, brings back so many memories. Some bad, some good. But mostly good. It hurts knowing that there will be no more memories made with him--Vivienne refused to say his name, it hurt too much. Memories with him are the only memories she wants. Moments with him, even one more, would mean the world to her.

Vivienne snaps out of Dreamland, when she sees the smoking boy walk up to her. He puffs one last puff of smoke out of his mouth, and drops the cigarette on the ground, stepping on it. He just stares at her, not saying anything.

"Can I help you?" Vivienne says coldly, annoyed that this boy interrupted her thoughts, interrupted the only time she feels close to him; close to the boy she loves. "You just look like someone I know," he explains, taking out another cigarette. "I don't know you." Vivienne replies, shrugging her shoulders, still tracing the heart. If this heart represents our relationship, shouldn't it be broken? Vivienne thinks to herself.

***

Gabe Mackintosh doesn't know this girl on the bench, nor does he recognize her, he just thought she looked lonely. Frankly, he was too. Nobody deserves to be lonely on a Sunday afternoon. Well, maybe people like Gabe did, but not girls like this; like her. She looked too nice, too sweet to be sitting alone on the bench. She didn't act as nice as she looked, though, but Gabe put that aside. Maybe she was just having a bad day. Gabe knew all to well about bad days.

He took another puff of his cigarette. "You sure have a lot of those things," the girl points out. "Want one?" Gabe pulls out his pack, offering her one. "Do I look like I want one?" No, she didn't, but Gabe shrugged his shoulders nonetheless, "I don't know, I can't tell if your lungs are black or not." The girl laughs, so quietly you could barely hear it. "So you realize how bad those things are." Gabe nods. He did know how harmful cigarettes are, but that doesn't mean he cared. "Then why do you do it?" "Because I couldn't care less." The girl nodded her head, as if she understood.

A huge gust of wind blows by the two of them, knocking Gabe's cigarette out of his hand. "Shit." he mumbles. The girl fixes her blown hair vigorously. Gabe pulls out another cigarette and his lighter. His lighter won't light, though, and he is suddenly desperate. "Do you have a lighter?" he asks the girl. "Of course not." she replies. Gabe looks around, wondering who could possibly have a lighter handy. As if on que, three teenagers and a dog walk past him and the girl. The dogs leash gets caught on her foot. "Ugh!" she yells, clearly annoyed. Yeah, Gabe thinks, she's definitely having a bad day.

"Hey, do any of you guys have a lighter?"

***

And just like that, everything changed.

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